binney & smith

binney & smith

smith & binney

what came in that box?
think it's glue

winfield, kansas 67156

no
wait
crayons
not that we use them much anymore

so what made those two guys
whoever they are
want to make stuff for school?

open window
right next to me

there have got to be kids
there in winfield, kansas
sitting in class right now

are they doing
the same lessons we are?

cursive was fun to learn
but i get tired of writing all the time

it is sooooo nice

outside

i'll bet you your brother's hot girlfriend
they're doing something cooler
in winfield

huge numbers
we add and subtract
like amounts of money
we never get to have

buses mosey into place
lining up for us

my fingernails know
by heart
every scratch in this desk

hmmm
need to have dad get my bike ready

too bad it's not one of those days
with something special at the end
people's moms bring in cupcakes
saint patricks day
or whatever

bus drivers get to stand around
and talk

here we are like those mice
in the cage

wish we had a science thing
experiments are kinda fun

i can smell the pavement
sun on the parking lot
somewhere between
rubber and dirt
*silent sigh*

someone needs to fix
the clock on the wall
it's so

slowwww

Duke Fabulous Reporting

Now this sho 'nuff takes the cake and eats it too. I ain't, I say, I ain't even a kiddin' this time. Just the other afternoon there I was shinin' my boots over by the radio, seein' as there was this ball game playin', and wouldn't you know there was a knock at the door. So I opened up and said howdy-do to some feller I ain't never seen before. With his hat in his hands and polite as could be he asks Mister Duke can I speak a question and I says all right. Turns out he's preparin' to claim paternity and wanted to get a few details straight. So I lean on the door post and raise one eyebrow as this dude 'splains this and that and th'other and how his momma said I's his daddy from a way ways back. Now, I knew that I knew that I never knew his mother, even from Eve, as they say, but what's the point in lettin' 'im off that easy? So I asks I say now do you have any documentation to substantiate said claim to my posterity? He proceeds to hand me his certificate of live birth and I reach for my speck-tackles. He keeps a spinnin' his yarn as I peruse the details, county seal and all that. In a couple more minutes he seems to run plum outta words and so I point out one detail in particular. I say, well, I say as much as I'd like to have you call me pappy I don't see how it could be. And why not, he wonders, lookin' just a tad let down. Well, it says right here, on this legal tender, you were born about five years be-fore my very own date of birth. Oh, he mutters and snatches the paper without even wishin' a good-day. So hear what the Duke sayeth. No matter how off a wall the assignment may seem at first, always, always do your homework. Duke out.

friday night

cozy house on a quiet brick street
snuggled amidst bustling foliage
'68 galaxy in the short driveway
the rest parked along the curb
misty drops on the awning
that shields the kitchen window
light's on over the sink
next to a kenmore blender
juiced on seagrams and lemons
baking sheets on the range
once held handmade pizzas
to go with tossed salad
little cubes of marble jack
and three kinds of dressing
some coffee in the melitta
hints of vanilla pipe smoke
miles davis on the hi-fi
laughter in the living room
around countless nests of rook

Too Many Saturdays

Such an opaque late winter bluster could not have provided a worse day to say farewell. As I walk up to that white church house in the heart of town I could not help but feel that the tables were turned. Despite being appropriately dressed for a funeral I am still distinct from the others converging this day, a middle class Anglo-Celtic raised in the country among urban African Americans. I'm the minority here, actually a passing novelty in itself.

In the shadow of downtown skyscrapers strolling amidst houses of working families, how unavoidably the mid-morning chill brings out the city's soul at its nastiest. The young man had been shot fleeing from police.

Soon I'm greeted by a cacophony of voices and warmth of many bodies inside. Taking a folding chair toward the rear, the pews already stuffed to capacity, I quickly surmise from the program that I've stepped into a different world where the church ushers are actually union labor. At one point a petite, pretty gal sits next to me with her young son. Without a word or making eye contact she keeps him close and vigilantly guards his antsy little feet from swinging into my legs. Also seated nearby is a fellow who appears to contain World War Three until he hastily gets up and seeks refuge outside. All around the dark sea of faces are looking at nothing or no one in particular.

Anyone speaking into a mic up front prefaces with "Praise the Lorrrrd" and waits for a likewise response which always seems anemic from such a bustling crowd. After the ministers and song leaders are gathered the formal bereavement begins with some words and condolences from sister congregations throughout the country. As a musician I tend to notice arrangements but I could not have been less prepared for the divine squeeze brought on by the brooding jazzy turns in Shield About Me. It was church. They only do three songs, no more were needed. Most sing, a few are on their feet in surrendered worship, many seem catatonic and I simply cannot move a muscle. Be Still My Soul.

The senior pastor had invited me. He nears the pulpit during a rousing chorus and then preaches flaming arrows of grace, he told me, on a mission to reach the kid's family. During the response I nearly break as the ministers reach out their hand to invite those who will to the altar.

A few weeks later I ran into the shepherd again. Those wondering sheep had since come into the flock.

On the drive home, now free from trying to find a place I've never been, I can now mentally ponder the mess on my car from a birds' nest that had blown out of a tree overnight. At first it's the inconvenience of having to clean some strange egg yolk off the paint and glass in unfavorable weather. At last, a budding life robbed of its potential.

whiskey kiss

fire

and water

fist to sternum

shakedown stare

subtle feline grace

her silky sweet musk

none match the aura

swirling about

the room as we mingle

never a glance

denied acknowledgment

don't you even

dare give us away

souls so much alike

incestuous tinge?

dying to connect

living safely apart

ethereal words

never spoken

wasted chances or

mounting tension?

we lose track

who's the fool

and who's fooling

two wills cannot

both be boss

just remember

when the shoe falls

that first stinging sip

once ingredients mix

a strange elixir

is totally

ours

with all due respect

Saw a news report about a church in some other town. They are glad to meet at the high school gym. Pastor's office is a coffee shop with wifi. Nothing new, except, well, all the tithes go to meeting needs of people in the community. No overhead. No building. No staff salaries. All volunteer and donations. I got the feeling they intend to keep it this way, so, no capital campaign or property fund, just applying as much of themselves as they can to living out their worship by serving.

There was a single mom just overwhelmed because this group had provided some kind of health supplies that she couldn't afford for her kid, who could now live a much more normal life.

Oh, and this was in the "secular" media, mind you.

One question. Why in blazes is this going on *in some other town* and not everywhere?

dryer fresh

some may feel

familiar ways and means

as a soggy diaper

sagging to the floor

as depleted shame

with acrid sting

propels hopeless whimpers

yet

not in vain

help is upon us

strong caring hands

clean and anoint

vest renewed bodies

in people clothes

this time

shivering in the primordial chill
of a melt-off soaked field
amidst last year's stalks and pickings
wear some old clothes

is it about appearances?

grab some terrain
plunge those hands
deep as they'll go
wiggle around a while

in my youth and maybe yours
often scolded for sarcasm
an age when purposeful irony
yields blank stares at best

for acres and square lengths untold
dark gold free for taking

yet without it
we're done

eyes front and center
hands two and ten
stay in your lane
healthy wealthy and wise

unto the least of these
he says

flesh and bone
king and pauper
yield their substance
unto our time

respect your elders
it's your salvation

granules that nourish
our crops and bodies
in one form or another
witnessed what we yet cannot

from minerals
to chemicals
to materials
to things
for health
for life
for excess
for killing

hearken the ages

converse amongst ourselves

when suddenly
across the thawing tundra

a breeze

c'mon and love me

This place has a murk all its own. Not something one can describe. They say you gotta live in Manhattan at least once in your life, I dunno, but the D is, well, what it is. You make cars or maybe beer, or you make parts of cars or just money from people making cars. You put your kids through college and retire at 50. You uproot a neighborhood to put in an artery. Your gray skies yield snow but only when it's not raining. You decay while those who can build half-million dollar houses along dirt roads to the west. You sprawl till your belts break the sound barrier during rush hour. But in the theaters and clubs and music shops they have none of it. For the life of me I'll never fathom how you were blessed with such a buffet, a veritable rainbow of talent and insistence, a sheer V-8 driven creative powerhouse on wheels. Then in the mid-70s some boys from NYC were struggling to make a splash, along with their label. You were good to them and they never forgot you for it. Can't help but wonder if the muse was a real woman or just a well-crafted cloud in a hungry songwriter's sky, in dim lighting on a sultry eve where you read what you want written on her face. Seduction is not so much a game as an admission of selling out. That which you seek to own will own you.

other things

a quiet place to read

twice the legal limit

cockatoos and cockathrees

doctrinal disagreements

cabbage

my pants

puddle of mud

the finger

aunt so and so's record-contending troll doll collection

a wry wayward crust of orange peel seeking refuge beneath your keyboard

the word "butt"

then and now

those times when the radio plays just the right song

yeah

slayer of dragons

there she stood
arrayed in royal vestments
against the dungeon wall
as the dragon made play

upon this i stumble
arrayed in hoodie and jeans
she cries save me save me
i mutter mmmmmmmmmm kay

it occurs to me
as the beast turns and lunges
that dragons don't exist
then it faded away

and so

did she

if leaders

if leaders

are not born
are not created
are not anointed
are not positioned
are not groomed
are not forged
are not made

then

how did our forebears

survive prehistory?

then again

who kept

a righteous judge
a flamboyant pharaoh
a malevolent monarch
a prissy emperor
a prominent premier
a fervent fuhrer
a colonial militia
a colonel bagosora
a major hassle

or any one of us

from ending it all?

puri

some fires cast shadows
from the edge of a room
soothing caloric presence
on a cold rainy eve

perfumed oil

some fires rage
from where the wind comes
consume land and beast
giving no quarter
granting no pardon
without reprieve

vengeful nature

some fires are beyond our
futile terrestrial realm
gasses fusing innards
warm this old rock
lifetime
upon lifetime

slip on your shades


yet


some fires refuse
to yield enough heat
to ignite someone else
to only serve
to make one wonder


granted limited fuel


why have a wick?

wry wit and wisdom

If ye shan't have meat
Then vie for a beet
Tis not very sweet
Yet more so than peat

hmmm

To pet a dear kitten
Please don thee a mitten
Not too tight a fittin'
In case ye get bitten

ohhh kay

Should ye feel blue
Melancholy hue
Pr'thee wouldst do:
Tell a rhyme'r two

ahhh

But when skies go gray
Sun hides all the day
Then indoors ye stay
And fervently pray...

ooh

For love's bewitch'n
From hell's own kitch'n
Wouldst give ye a switch'n
I still hear ye -

ALRIGHT then

man of sorrows

see my servant shall prosper
he shall be exalted and lifted up
and shall be very high
just as there were many who were astonished at him
so marred was his appearance beyond human semblance
and his form beyond that of mortals
so he shall startle many nations
kings shall shut their mouths because of him
for that which had not been told them they shall see
and that which they had not heard they shall contemplate
who has believed what we have heard?
and to whom has the arm of the lord been revealed?
for he grew up before him like a young plant
and like a root out of dry ground
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him
he was despised and rejected by others
a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity
and as one from whom others hide their faces
he was despised and we held him of no account
surely he has borne our infirmities
and carried our diseases
yet we accounted him stricken
struck down by god and afflicted
but he was wounded for our transgressions
crushed for our iniquities
upon him was the punishment that made us whole
and by his bruises we are healed
all we like sheep have gone astray
we have all turned to our own way
and the lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all
he was oppressed and he was afflicted
yet he did not open his mouth
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent
so he did not open his mouth
by a perversion of justice he was taken away
who could have imagined his future?
for he was cut off from the land of the living
stricken for the transgression of my people

isaiah 52:13-53:8 nrsv

pop balloon

apprehensively
i wait
not something to rush
as i know my heart
having done all i can
apologizing
have i done anything
to encourage this
awkwardness
or promote
misunderstanding
at least
as i perceive it
nothing more
than restoration
and renewal
do i want
however long
it takes
will be worth it
till the membrane
gives
or a pin
brings release
colored latex shreds
obliterate
what is stale
embrace
what is fresh
share
what is plunder
with those around
ka powww
rock on